


In the Sun

by lilacsilver



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M, Multi, some NSFW drabbles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-23
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2017-11-26 15:01:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 6,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/651603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilacsilver/pseuds/lilacsilver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Assorted Steve/Darcy (and Bucky/Steve/Darcy) drabbles and ficlets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. National News

            **CAPTAIN AMERICA SPOTTED WITH MYSTERY GIRL**. All the tabloids, talk shows, and entertainment-news shows get wind of the story. It’s national news within hours, and Steve has no idea what he’s supposed to do.

            “Eh, just let it blow over. Hell, Tony will probably cause a scandal this time tomorrow, and they’ll forget all about us.” That’s Darcy’s advice. She sounds confident, but he’s known her long enough to see the worry in the way she bites her lip, the anxiety in the way she won’t stop drumming her fingers against her knee.

            He covers her restless hand with his own, kisses her temple, and hopes it’s reassuring. She relaxes after a few minutes, tucks her feet up under her on the couch, and rests her head on his shoulder.

            Pepper has the Stark Industries PR team working on the situation. Natasha is heading up the team of SHIELD agents assigned to scare off the paparazzi staking out the Tower and Darcy’s apartment. That Darcy is in the Tower at all is also SHIELD’s doing; she’d been sneaked out of her apartment building and ushered into an SUV in the wee hours of the morning.

            It’s good to know they don’t have to deal with this alone, but not so great to know that sooner or later they’ll have to face their friends. Their relationship is still new, and they haven’t told anyone, content to keep it to themselves for a while.

            Eventually Darcy sits up and stretches, and when she smiles at him there’s something fierce in it. She lifts her chin, throws her shoulders back, and there’s the bold Darcy he knows and…

            “I think I love you,” he says. Her smile softens, and when she kisses him it’s full of all the things he knows she isn’t yet ready to say.


	2. Shine

            “Just say the word, Cap, and I’ll fly you out of here. Just name the place.” Tony fidgets with his tie for the hundredth time, tapping his feet.

            “What is wrong with you?” Clint demands. “No one’s forcing you to be here, you know.”

            Well, no one except the bride, who’s in another room getting ready. Steve is doing a good job of ignoring Tony, focused on the fact that in less than an hour he’ll be married to Darcy Lewis.

            “There’s no place I’d rather be,” he finally says. “Why are you so nervous, anyway?”

            “I would hear this as well,” Thor says. “Friends we may be, Stark, but if you attempt to disrupt this joyous day I will not hesitate to finish what the Lady Darcy is certain to start.”

            Tony cringes. So does Clint. Darcy is ferocious when she wants to be, and she’s spent the past few weeks threatening all of them with increasingly worse punishments if they ruin her wedding. She’s got Natasha to back her up, so the threats are far from empty.

            “Okay, okay, I’ll shut up,” Tony says. “Quiet as a mouse, that’s me.”

\--

            The ceremony goes off without any major problems, except for the moment when Steve blanks on his vows. Darcy’s smile is starting to falter when he finally tells himself it’ll be okay if he just improvises; he’s not about to let her down.

            “Darcy,” he says. “When you agreed to marry me, I thought it was the best day of my life. I, uh, I was wrong. _Today_ is that day. I’ll never figure out what a gal like you sees in a fella like me, but I know I’ll spend the rest of my life trying.”

            He stops there, because her eyes are shining and her smile is bright and she’s so beautiful he can’t think of anything else to say.

            He slides the ring onto her finger, and she does the same for him, and then she leans up on her tiptoes and kisses him.

            They’re married. He knows that sooner or later reality will intrude, but not on this shining-golden day with their friends and her family (his, too, he supposes) around them. No, today he gets to dance with Darcy and interrupt Tony’s inappropriate best-man speech with an elbow to the ribs, and everything is perfect.


	3. Mars Attacks?

            “Hey! Tall, orange and ugly! Over here!”

            She’d been told to hide in a safe room and stay there, but Darcy Lewis is not (and never has been) one to follow orders. Even if the orders are issued by Captain America, he of the 1940s sensibilities and unrivaled puppy-eyes.

            They’re in the lab: her, Steve, and a growling creature from another planet that has gotten separated from its fellow aliens. The others are presumably wreaking havoc elsewhere, but this one has interrupted a lunch date with her boyfriend. That means it’s personal.

            Steve watches in horror as the alien’s gaze snaps to her and it slowly begins to approach her. Her thoughts are racing a mile a minute as she tries to figure out how she’s going to get out of here alive.

            Something occurs to her when the alien is less than ten feet away – something she saw in a movie once.

            Her iPod is already in the speaker dock. All she has to do is reach over to the shelf, turn up the volume as high as it will go, and press play. And she does, slowly, the alien’s six eyes tracking the movement.

            “Steve,” she says. “Cover your ears. Do it now.”

            He looks equal parts bewildered and scared, but he obeys without question. She hits the play button and immediately does the same, a second before music blasts out of the speakers.

            The alien wavers, stops…and then all six of its eyes widen, right before its head is just _gone_. What’s left of it crumples to the floor.

            Darcy turns off the music. Steve is looking down at the dead alien now, but he looks back up at her.

            “How did you know that would work?”

            “I…uh, I didn’t.”

            He clenches his jaw, and she braces herself for a lecture on how half-assed ideas are generally bad ones, but all he does is step around the alien corpse and hug her tightly.

            “Please don’t ever take a risk like that again,” he says quietly. “You could have been killed.”

            She starts to shake as the adrenaline wears off.


	4. Shatter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is actually way too long to count as a drabble, but I thought I'd add it to the collection anyway because I do what I want.

            She’s alone in her too-small apartment when Clint calls her. Outside, the rain is pouring down, and she can’t remember where she put her umbrella, but she puts on her shoes anyway.

            Steve’s hurt. Even with his accelerated healing, it’s bad enough that he’ll be laid up for a few days and the doctors are reluctant to let him go. She doesn’t know why Clint is telling her all this; it’s a week ago today that she broke things off with Steve.

            _“I don’t understand, Darcy,” he said quietly. “Just…tell me why you’re doing this. Why you’re leaving.”_

_She didn’t turn around, knowing that looking at him would break her resolve and she’d stay. When she answered him, her voice came out small and tired: “I don’t think you want to hear that, Steve.”_

_“Yes, I do. You’re breaking up with me. I think I have the right to know **why.** ”_

_She closed her eyes, hating herself for the metaphorical knife-twisting she was about to do. “If you can’t figure it out, you’re not as smart as I thought.”_

_She shut the door behind her with a too-quiet click, leaving him sitting on the couch in silence._

            “Look,” Clint says. “I don’t know what the hell happened between you two, but he seems to think it can be fixed, because he wants to see you.”

            “He shouldn’t,” she replies. “But I’ll…I’ll come anyway.”

            “Good, ‘cause there’s a car waiting for you.”

            Between the traffic and the weather, it takes a lot longer than usual to get to SHIELD headquarters. She has time to think about how selfish she’s been, and just how much she doesn’t deserve Steve.

            She never has. She’d taken the cruel way out by not telling him why she was calling it quits, and insulting him as she walked out the door, and he still wants to see her. God, she’s so not good enough for him.

            Eventually the SUV pulls into the parking level at SHIELD, out of the rain, and she’s escorted up to the medical level. She doesn’t see the rest of the team, and she’s glad of it because she can’t face their combined anger over what she’s done to their Captain.

            Speaking of: he’s sitting up in bed, face drawn with pain that no drugs can alleviate. She takes a single hesitant step into the room, catching his attention.

            “Darcy,” is all he says. Her name on his lips pulls her closer, until she’s standing by his knees. They stare at each other for a long moment, until she feels the last of her resolve abandon her.

            “Steve, I’m sorry, I was wrong,” she blurts out. Her eyes sting with building tears that blur her vision, and she blinks them away. He reaches for her and she goes, because she can’t pretend she hasn’t been hurting, too. A sob escapes her throat as she curls up against his uninjured side.

            “Shh,” he murmurs into her hair. “Darcy, sweetheart, it’s okay. It’s okay.”

            “No, no, it’s not, I hurt you, I _left_ you, you should hate me,” she whispers through her tears. His hold on her shoulder tightens briefly, a reassuring squeeze.

            “Never,” he tells her. “Not ever. I still don’t understand, but I could never hate you.”

            She lifts her head from his shoulder and meets his eyes. He lifts his other hand to cup her face, traces the downward curve of her lips with his thumb.

            They’ve still got a lot of talking to do, but she thinks they’ll be all right.


	5. Witching Hour

            It’s so late that it’s early, but Steve can’t get to sleep. He stares at the ceiling as the minutes tick steadily by. There’s a quick flash of headlights from the street outside, through the little gap between the blinds and the edge of the window. He sighs and looks at Darcy, warm and snug and dreaming beside him.

            Carefully, so as not to disturb her, he slips out of bed. But she’s too attuned to him, and she wakes before his feet hit the chilly floor.

            “Steve?”

            “Go back to sleep, sweetheart. I’m…”

            That’s as far as he gets, because he can’t lie and tell her he’s fine. She’ll see right through it.

            “Nope. Get back in bed and talk to me, Steve-o.” He obeys, soothed by her gentle tone. She sits up and reaches over to turn on the lamp on her side of the bed, then tugs him over so he’s lying on his side, eyes just about level with her hip.

            “Now,” she says. “What’s bothering you? And don’t say ‘nothing,’ because three-thirty in the morning is way too early for bullshit.”

            “I was thinking about the last mission,” he replies. “What I should have done differently.”

            She raps on his cheek sharply with her knuckles. Though he can’t quite see her face, he knows he’s said something wrong. Her answer, when it comes, just proves that.

            “No. You’re not allowed to beat yourself up over this. Shit happens, Steve, and you’re only one man. No one expects you to be able to account for every possibility.”

            “I made a bad call, Darce. Tony got hurt because of me.”

            She snorts. “He got hurt because of some jackass with a suped-up EMP generator that somehow didn’t make it into the intel, which I know because _I_ put that file together.”

            “But if I had just…”

            “Stop. No one blames you, least of all Tony. You gotta…you gotta remember that and try to move on, or you won’t be any use to anyone.”

            He sits up, tired of not being able to look in her eyes. What he sees there just hurts him even more; she looks exhausted and sad.

            “Darce…”

            “Yeah,” she says. “Somebody had to say that to me once. I’ve screwed up before, too. We all make mistakes, Steve, and there’s never any way out but forward.”

            Behind the old sadness in her blue, blue eyes, there’s steel. He’s been forced to rethink a lot of things since waking up in the future, but he knows he believes in her, so he lets her words sink in.


	6. untitled mutant!darcy drabble

            Steve’s noticed that Darcy doesn’t like it when anyone touches her, and reacts to even accidental touches like she’s been burned. He tells himself it’s none of his business, but the tenth time he sees her flinch away from what she calls Dr. Foster’s _science flailing_ , he resolves to ask her about it. Asking won’t do any harm.

            Three days later, he gets the chance. At first she looks at him like she doesn’t know what he’s talking about, but then she just sighs and reaches out, her fingertips barely touching his arm.

            _Here’s your answer, Cap_. Her voice in his mind is subdued, quiet. He tries not to think about how strange it is, but he sees her fingers twitch away and the connection breaks.

            “You’re…”

            “Yeah,” she says. “Don’t tell anyone. You and Jane and Fury are the only ones here who know, so just…”

            He nods. He’ll keep her secret.


	7. Pancakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote a ficlet for Valentine's Day, because I am not-so-secretly a huge sap.

            Darcy comes into the kitchen late on the morning of Valentine’s Day with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Steve turns from where he’s fixing up a breakfast tray.

            “Morning, sweetheart,” he says.

            “Hi.” She shuffles over to him, peering at the contents of the tray. “Are those chocolate-pecan pancakes? Give!”

            He laughs. “All right, all right, go sit down. Coffee?”

            She nods, flopping gracelessly into her seat and pushing the blanket back to free her arms. He pours the coffee and brings it to her, and is rewarded with a bright grin.

            “You know, you may just be my favorite person ever.”

            “You’re not so bad yourself,” he replies, and she laughs. He goes back for the pancakes, and turns with the plate in his hand to find her holding her fork in anticipation. The sight brings a fond smile to his face, and he just studies her for a moment. God, she’s beautiful, even (especially) when she’s being silly like this.

            “Hey, soldier, shake a tail-feather. Those pancakes aren’t gonna eat themselves, you know!”

            He sets the plate down and gets out of her way, not even daring to steal a kiss, because he knows better than to get between Darcy and a stack of pancakes. Leaning against the counter, he watches her, aware that his expression might be characterized as “goofy” by his less tactful acquaintances.

            Well, whatever. He’s too happy right now to care.


	8. Peace

            It’s been a long three weeks since he last saw Darcy, but he’s finally home after an exhaustive debrief. The only problem is that she _isn’t_ home – out somewhere with Pepper or Jane, most likely. He wants nothing more than to hold her; he’d even sit through one of those awful romantic comedies she likes so much if she would just come _home_.

            He doesn’t have to wait long. Perhaps half an hour passes as he putters around the apartment, re-alphabetizing their movie collection and putting away the dishes just to have something to do, before he hears the scrape and click of her key in the door. He smiles as the door opens and she walks in, complaining to herself; her annoyed voice trails away to silence after a few moments. She’s spotted his jacket hung up on the coat tree, then.

            “Steve?” she says. “Where are you?”

            “In here!” he calls out from the kitchen. A minute later she’s in the doorway, grinning at him, resting a hand on her heavily pregnant belly. She’s showing more than she was when he left, but that’s to be expected with twins. (He’s still having trouble believing that one, but he supposes it’ll sink in once they’re born).

            They meet in the middle of the room, and he wraps his arms around her and breathes her in. One of the babies chooses that moment to kick, a movement so strong that he feels it even through Darcy’s thick sweater.

            “Oof,” Darcy says. “I think that was our boy.”

            “Tim, be nice to your mother,” Steve says to her belly. They’d considered naming him for Bucky, but that’s too heavy a reminder for their son to carry. So he’s named for Dugan instead, and there isn’t quite so much old weight to it.

            “I’ve got to go sit down,” Darcy sighs after a few more minutes just standing in the middle of the kitchen. Steve lets go and they walk into the living room, where she sinks onto the couch with a grateful sigh. She laces her fingers with his once he sits down next to her, slumping against him. She looks exhausted, shadows under her eyes and tense lines around her mouth.

            “Sweetheart, why don’t you take a nap?”

            “That sounds awesome,” she mumbles. “But my feet hurt too much.”

            He nudges her into a sitting position and moves to her other side, and she immediately puts her feet in his lap. As he rubs her aching soles, she tries to tell him all about her day, but soon drifts off. Peace reigns over their little home, if only for a moment.


	9. Beach Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For dopemixtape, who prompted "Darcy/Steve, on vacation."

            It’s sunset, the sky overhead painted soft orange and pink. Not that Steve notices it; he’s distracted by Darcy barking orders. She’s gathering up their things, shaking the sand off of the blanket and making sure the kids have their shoes.

            “Mama, I don’t wanna go in! Wanna build ‘nother castle!”

            “Tomorrow, Tim. I promise we’ll come back tomorrow. Put your shoes on.”

            “Mama, I lost my hat!” little Sarah cries out. She’s so much more fragile than her twin brother, and Darcy’s attention immediately snaps to her.

            “I got it right here, baby. And…Steve! C’mere, I don’t want her to get cold!”

            He steps forward and scoops their daughter up in his arms. It’s not long before she’s asleep, worn out from the day. Darcy’s eyes are anxious when she passes him Sarah’s hat.

            “She’s just tired, Darce,” he says. “Today was kind of a big day.”

            “She was like this yesterday, too, though. I’m worried about her. You know the doctor said…”

            “Honey, she’s fine. You should be more worried about our son, because he appears to be about to launch himself into the Atlantic Ocean again.”

            She whirls. “Tim, get back here! We’re leaving!”

            The little boy knows better than to argue when she uses that particular tone, all tension and nerves, and comes running. Steve shifts his hold on Sarah so he can wrap an arm around Darcy’s shoulders.

            “I’m sorry,” she murmurs. “I’m just…she’s so little, Steve. I can’t lose my baby.”

            He closes his eyes, because that’s his chief concern too. Sarah’s not quite as bad off as he was at her age, but nor is she as healthy as Tim. At five years old, it’s almost time for them to start school, something he knows Darcy dreads. For that matter, so does he.

            Sarah wheezes in her sleep. They watch her carefully, but her breathing eases after a moment. Some of the tension goes out of Darcy’s shoulders; she strokes Sarah’s curly brown hair and sighs.

            “Let’s go,” she whispers, picking up the bag of beach things in one hand and taking Tim’s little hand in the other. He follows, carrying Sarah, and the sun disappears below the horizon.


	10. Red

            Whenever she has a bad day at work, no matter how tired she is, Darcy always goes straight for the bright red nail polish tucked away in a drawer in the bathroom. It makes her feel better to focus on something trivial, something she can control.

            This time it hasn’t been so much a bad day as a bad thirty-six hours, during which no fewer than five evil minions pointed guns at her and their leader held her hostage. So yeah, she really, _really_ needs that nail polish. It’ll look great with the bruises and cuts, she thinks bitterly.

            There’s only one problem: the little bottle is nowhere to be found. She lets out a frustrated groan and tosses the contents of the drawer all over the bathroom counter.

            “Darcy? What’s the matter?” Steve appears in the doorway shirtless, and while she’d usually be all over that, she thinks she might cry if the polish doesn’t turn up.

            “I can’t find it, Steve. My…the nail polish, the red nail polish, it’s not here!”

            Steve’s voice is quiet, hesitant, when he answers. “I think you threw it out, honey. You said it was almost empty and you were gonna go buy more, but…”

            “Damn it!” She hits the counter with a closed fist, and it hurts like hell, but she does it again anyway. Steve stops her before she can do it a third time, his hands closing around hers and tugging her toward him.

            She suddenly feels tired, so damn tired, and doesn’t really want to walk even the few feet to their bed. Steve half-carries her there, murmuring gentle nonsense against her skin. Once she’s settled, he turns to leave, but she tugs at his hand.

            “I don’t…don’t wanna be alone. Please.” He obliges, curving around her protectively, and she gets as close to him as she can. Her eyes close and she starts to drift off, knowing he’ll still be there when she wakes.


	11. Argument

            The TV is on, but Darcy isn’t paying it any attention. She stares at her hands, trying not to be so damn _angry_. This isn’t the first argument she’s had with her boys, but it’s certainly the worst.

            Steve’s in the bedroom and Bucky isn’t even in the apartment. He’s been gone for over an hour, off somewhere cooling down. She sighs heavily and reaches for the remote to turn off the TV, because the news anchor has a really annoying voice and it’s starting to cut into her one-woman pity party.

            The door opens and she looks up, a little startled, but of course it’s only Bucky. He comes over and sits down beside her on the couch, looking as contrite as he ever can.

            “’m sorry, doll,” he says. She just nods, saying nothing, and the silence stretches on between them until she can’t take it anymore.

            “You don’t get to make my choices for me,” she tells him. “Neither one of you. It’s my life, and I decide what to do with it.”

            “We got scared, Darcy. We thought we were gonna lose you.”

            “That doesn’t make it okay! I’m an agent, and sometimes that means I get hurt.” She stops there because of the look in his eyes, and shivers when he runs his hand – the real one – up her arm to cup her face.

            “I know,” he says. He leans forward to kiss her, his hand sliding around to the back of her head and pulling her even closer. The sudden shift tugs on her stitches and makes her wince, and he backs off.

            “I’m fine, honey,” she says. “Get back here.”

            He responds by tugging up the hem of her shirt and inspecting the line of stitches with narrowed eyes. She hears the unmistakable sound of the bedroom door swinging open on creaky hinges – they really need to do something about that – and then Steve’s footsteps coming down the hall.

            He joins them on the couch, murmuring apologies into her hair.


	12. Sky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A 5-sentence Tumblr drabble.

Darcy misses the stars. Here in the city, it’s impossible to see them with so much light below. It makes her think much more fondly of her time in New Mexico.

Steve notices, and one day he borrows a car from Tony and says they should go for a drive. She wears a red dress, and they spend an evening miles away from the city just watching the sky.


	13. Baby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another 5-sentence Tumblr drabble, OT3 this time.

“Bucky, where is our child?”

“I thought you had her!”

Darcy looked pointedly at the empty carrier with its lonely green blanket, then poked him in the chest with the ear of corn she was holding.

“Just once I’d like to be able to go grocery shopping without a crisis,” she said.

A moment later Steve came up to them, holding the sleeping baby.


	14. Lazy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some fluffy OT3 goodness. Enjoy!

            It’s one of those days where they’re all at home, and free to do as they please without the possibility of being called in to SHIELD. Darcy is sprawled out across both of her boys’ laps, soothed to the point that she’s practically purring as Steve runs his fingers through her long hair.

            It’s been a hard few weeks for them, what with multiple overnight missions (Steve and Bucky) and all the paperwork generated by said missions (Darcy). None of them have been home for more than an hour at a time for close to a month, but now her boys are on stand-down for a while and Darcy can finally breathe.

            “So, what are we having for dinner?” Bucky asks, breaking the comfortable silence.

            “Pizza,” Steve says. “Or…Darcy, what do you think?”

            “Don’t care.” She yawns. “Sleepy.”

            Bucky strokes the arch of her foot, which is just unfair because he _knows_ her feet are ticklish. She twitches a little and grumbles, pulling her feet out of his lap.

            “Quit it.”

            “Just for that, you get to go pick up the pizza,” Steve says. Bucky groans.

            “I don’t want to. You know Isabella hates me.” Isabella is the co-owner of their favorite pizza place. She likes Darcy, and flat adores Steve, but can’t stand Bucky. None of them have ever been able to figure out why.

            “Tell her I don’t feel well,” Darcy says. “She’ll give us extra garlic bread then, even if she does hate you.”

            “She’ll know I’m lying and she’ll spit in my eye or something.”

            “Why would she spit in your eye?”

            “I don’t know! She’s threatened to do it before, and I don’t want to find out if she actually would.”

            “Just go get the pizza,” Steve says. “The sooner you go, the sooner we can all eat.”


	15. Cake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, another OT3 ficlet.

            Darcy knows she’s not supposed to know about the cake – or the surprise birthday party her boys have been planning for weeks. But maybe Steve shouldn’t have left the cake out where she could easily find it.

            She carefully lifts a corner of the tinfoil covering the cake pan, just to catch a glimpse of the chocolate fudge frosting.

            “I’m disappointed in you, doll,” Bucky says. “You couldn’t wait just twelve hours?”

            She pats the tinfoil back into place and straightens. “How long have you been standing there?”

            “Long enough to know you’re terrible at being sneaky.” He steps up close behind her, wrapping both arms around her waist, and she leans back into him.

            “I’ll have you know I am very sneaky,” she says. He laughs, his warm breath ruffling her hair.

            “You’re a lot of things, baby doll, but that’s not one of ‘em.”

            “Oh? Well, what am I, then?”

            He reached up to brush her hair aside and kissed a spot under her ear, making her shiver lightly. “Beautiful,” he says. “And smart. And funny as hell.”

            “Don’t forget ‘obsessed with chocolate,’” Steve puts in. He takes Darcy’s hand when she reaches out for him, lets her pull him in, and leans down to kiss her.


	16. Slow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW. Also, this is only my second-ever attempt at writing anything smutty, so it might not be very good. You've been warned.

            It’s raining outside, but none of them notice. Steve’s behind Darcy, his hands on her hips to hold her steady, and Bucky’s kneeling in front of her with a wicked smile on his face.

            “Aren’t you going to –” she breaks off with a gasp as Bucky leans up and tastes her, a quick little swipe of his tongue. She barely has time to react before he pulls away again.

            “God,” he says. “I could do this all day, she tastes so good.”

            “Better get to it, then,” Steve says. He nips lightly at the corner of her jaw, making her shiver.

            Bucky laughs and gets back to business, pressing a finger slowly inside of her. His thumb brushes her clit and she tries to arch up, but Steve holds her still.

            “Not yet, sweetheart,” he says in her ear. “There’s no rush.”

            Bucky seems to agree, because he makes no effort to speed things along. He keeps the same slow rhythm, every touch designed to drive her just to the edge and no further, until she’s tense as a bowstring and moaning wordlessly.

            Then, only then, does he press two fingers hard against her clit. She sees stars, and she’s pretty sure that she screams. When she comes back to herself, Steve is sitting on the floor, cradling her in his arms and gently stroking her hair. She smiles and cuddles up to him as Bucky, who’s holding her hand, kisses the tips of her fingers.


	17. Tex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally written & posted on Tumblr March 9, 2013.

“Aw, Steve, look!” Petco is having some kind of adoption event today, and they’ve been talking about getting a dog for months. Or arguing, really. Darcy wants one, but he doesn’t, because their jobs often take them away from home for days and even weeks at a time.

But when he looks at the scruffy gray dog Darcy’s pointing at, it looks back at him with sad brown eyes and he’s hooked. A volunteer comes over to them.

“This is Tex,” she says. She looks as sad as the dog does. “Today’s his last chance. If he doesn’t get adopted…”

Darcy turns to Steve. “Hear that? We have to take him home.”

“Darce…” he says, a last-ditch effort to resist what he’s begun to realize is inevitable. She crosses her arms.

“I want to adopt him, Steve.”

“Okay.”

She grins. Tex looks up at them and his tail begins to wag so fast it makes his entire back half wiggle.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Day 3 of the FYDL Positivity Week.

The window seat in her old bedroom is Darcy’s favorite spot in her childhood home. Here, curled up in a blanket, is where Steve finds her when he finally escapes the clutches of the many rowdy children present at the Lewis family reunion.

Darcy loves her family, but prefers them at a distance; she’d only agreed to come to the reunion because Steve wanted to meet everyone.

“How soon can we go home?” he grumbles, dropping down onto the floor next to her. She frees one hand from her blanket burrito to pet his hair, smiling slightly as he leans into the touch.

“Aw, are you tired of my family already? It’s only been two days.”

He mutters something under his breath, but as she continues to stroke his hair the stress lines on his forehead begin to smooth out.

“Tell you what,” she says a while later. “If you kiss me and make it a hell of a good one, I’ll invent some excuse for us to call for extraction.”

He obliges with a grin.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally written & posted on Tumblr Nov. 26, 2015.

It should be weird as hell to know that her soulmate was born in 1918 and knew her grandfather, but honestly, Darcy’s experienced weirder. Besides, all that really matters is that he’s her soulmate and that he’s pretty much always open to cuddling.

She’s especially glad for the latter tonight, because it’s been another long damned day of not quite being Stark enough to suit her father. There’s just a little too much Lewis in her to be the same caliber of genius that Tony is, that Howard was. She resolutely pushes those thoughts to the back of her mind and enters her apartment to find Steve already there, arms opening so all she has to do is step up close to him.

“JARVIS warned me,” he says. “I was about to make hot chocolate on the stove, if you want any.”

She nods. “With peppermint?”

“As you wish,” he smiles down at her.


	20. Chapter 20

Darcy’s never put much stock in the whole soulmate, happily-ever-after thing, for all that she has two sets of words. When she meets _I’m sorry, ma’am, did you need something?_ she nearly rethinks her entire worldview.

At least until she answers with “That’s my mark. Well, one of them,” and Steve Rogers looks at her sadly.

“I only have one mark, and it isn’t you.”

She stammers out something about hoping they can be friends, and turns to leave.

“Wait,” he says. She stops. He goes on: “Do you know who your other is?”

“No. Whoever they are, they’re gonna be really confused when we meet.”

Three months later, she meets _I…I don’t…who are you?_ and stays with him until Steve and Natasha arrive.

She sits outside the secure room every day, sometimes with Steve, sometimes alone. It no longer matters if Steve has her words or not; he’s hers just as much as Bucky is, fate be damned.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 1 of 2. NSFW-ish.

Darcy is a little surprised when they formally ask her. Things have been heading that way, sure, but she hadn’t been expecting it to happen tonight. The collar is narrow, made of deep blue leather, and her breath catches when Bucky lifts it out of the box.

“Will you accept?” Steve’s eyes betray his nerves. As if she’d ever say no.

“Yes, sir,” she says, letting Bucky be the one to put it on her. She closes her eyes when he ghosts a kiss across the back of her neck, just over the clasp.

“Looks good on you, doll,” he murmurs, nudging her over to Steve. The blond nods his approval, eyes dark with want, and gathers her up in a kiss that leaves her breathless and unsteady. Bucky’s there as soon as Steve lets her go, his left hand sliding under the hem of her shirt. The cool metal is a relief to her suddenly overheated skin.

“More,” she breathes. “Please?”

“Please, what?” Bucky’s voice is teasing, but she doesn’t miss the warning.

“Sir. Please, sir.”

“Good girl,” Steve says warmly. He kisses her again, gentler this time.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of 2.

The morning after accepting the collar, Darcy is woken by the smell of bacon frying. She finds that the collar is on the nightstand and not on her where it belongs, and frets about this until Steve comes in with a steaming mug of coffee.

“Bucky doesn’t want you sleeping in it,” he tells her, handing over the mug. “I said you’d be all right, but he won’t budge, so that’s the rule.”

“‘Kay,” she murmurs, taking a sip of coffee. It’s just slightly too hot, so she sets it aside while Steve puts the collar back on her. His smile warms her to her toes, and she happily curls against him.

“I’m so glad you said yes,” he says, stroking her sleep-mussed hair. Her stomach growls before she can respond, and he laughs.

“Buck said something about breakfast in bed. Want me to go see if it’s ready?”

“Yes, please,” she says.


	23. Chapter 23

Darcy’s never held an Alpha’s attention long enough to receive a courtship gift. She’s too loud, too stubborn, too bold. Instead, she gets to watch grumpily as her Facebook feed is regularly dominated by announcements from the other Omegas she grew up with, excitedly providing photographic proof of their own romantic achievements.

Alphas don’t choose Omegas like her. They go for the quiet Omegas who will focus all their attention on cooking and housework and raising the pups. That’s what she’s always been told.

So when Barnes comes to her apartment one afternoon, bouquet of tulips in hand and nervousness plain on his face, she stares at him for a long moment and shuts the door in his face so she can try and remember how to breathe. When she gets a hold of herself and opens it again, he’s gone and the flowers are on the floor, stems crushed to pulp by a metal fist.

She calls Steve. “I don’t mean to alarm you, but I think I just accidentally rejected your best friend and I didn’t mean to and if he’d like to try again I’ll explain why I shut the door on him.” She hangs up before Steve can get a word in edgewise and rubs her temples, hoping she can fix what she’s just done.

When Barnes comes back, she lets him in.

“I don’t…I’m not used to this,” she says. “Alphas don’t really consider me an option for bonding. I’m more of a short fling to them.”

“The hell you are,” Barnes growls. “Who put that idea in your head?”

“Everyone,” she says. “My parents warned me about my attitude. Said I’d never match up with a decent Alpha, not with the way I acted. I was never good enough.”

Barnes looks like he wants to snarl, but refrains; she’s grateful. An angry Alpha in her den, her safe space, isn’t something she wants to deal with right now. He sets a little white box on the table between them, and she opens it to find a beautiful brown-gold stone on a silver chain.

“You…you really want to court me?” she asks.

“Yes.” He watches anxiously as she takes the necklace from the box and holds it up to catch the light. The tiger’s eye gleams.

“Will you put it on me?”

He nods jerkily and does so, and when she turns back toward him, his expression hurts her heart. She scoots closer and rests her forehead against his shoulder, and smiles when he cautiously slides his arms around her.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beware of dad jokes.

“Hey, Darce, I think the sink is clogged.”

Well, isn’t that the cherry on top of a crappy day? Darcy follows the sound of Bucky’s voice and stomps into the kitchen, where he’s standing with his back to her.

She gets to his side and looks down, only to find one of her own super-comfortable Danskos covering the drain.

She can’t help but laugh, leaning into Bucky as he smirks.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 3 of 3. (Sequel to ch. 21 & 22).

Darcy slumps back into the pillows, still shivering with aftershocks. Someone makes quick work of removing her blindfold and the restraints around her wrists, and in another moment she hears water running in the bathroom.

“Hi, there,” Steve says, his voice low. “How’re you feeling?”

“’m good,” she responds. “Thirsty.”

“I’ll get you some juice in a minute,” he says. “Don’t wanna leave you alone.”

She smiles, reaching for him. He brushes feather-light kisses against both of her wrists before wrapping himself around her, sharing his warmth. The water cuts off and Bucky comes in, crossing to the bed to kiss her.

“Hey, doll,” he murmurs. “Got a nice hot bath in there whenever you feel like getting up.”

She pretends to think about it, but ultimately a hot bath with the lavender-scented bubbles she likes wins out over Steve. He’s supposed to be getting her some juice, anyway. As he goes off to do that, she lets Bucky carry her to the tub.

It’s large enough for all three of them to share, with plenty of room besides, thanks to their benevolent landlord Stark’s over-the-top approach to apartment design. She relaxes into the water, tucked up under Bucky’s right arm as he kisses her anywhere and everywhere he can reach without moving.


End file.
